


Taking the Edge Off

by RileyC



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Post-Quickening, Swordplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-11
Updated: 2010-06-11
Packaged: 2017-10-10 01:56:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RileyC/pseuds/RileyC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A first kiss, requested by Kitestringer; picking up immediately after the Old Guys takes Kristin's head in "Chivalry."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking the Edge Off

Waiting at the T-Bird, Duncan MacLeod tensed up, that automatic reflex to sensing another of his kind nearby. Usually, when he recognized a friend, the sensation ebbed and muted. Not this time. As he watched Methos step out of the night and approach the car, even at a distance he felt a powerful, thrumming vibration in the ancient Immortal that set every nerve on edge and kept it there.

Methos climbed into the passenger seat and settled back with a gusty sigh. "Highlander."

"How do you feel?" What would it be like, to take a Quickening after sitting out the Game for decades, centuries?

"Alive." Methos said it with relish, as if savoring every scintilla of Kristin's Quickening as it continued to resonate inside him.

Hands resting loosely on the steering wheel, Duncan said, "Guess it's been a while."

"Just a bit." Methos shifted restlessly in the seat. "A lot's coming back to me."

"I'll bet." The climax of the Quickening left you spent, but then the second charge would kick in, like you were on fire, the need to quench it, bleed it off, almost unbearable.

"Drive, Highlander," Methos said, a dangerous amusement shimmering through his voice that sent a thrill up Duncan's spine.

He drove, thinking of earlier, at the dojo, going one on one with Methos and finding himself at his mercy. He'd felt like a simple minded, wee mousie being toyed with by a sleek and underhanded cat -- for a moment. As Methos had moved in, the blade of his sword almost caressing Duncan's throat, what he had felt most profoundly was an electric spark igniting every sense. If he hadn't as swiftly turned the tables, if Richie hadn't walked in on them…

Long fingers stroked the nape of his neck, pulled his hair tie loose, snarled themselves in his hair.

"Methos…"

"Keep driving."

He kept driving, concentrating on the road, on the streetlights, on the traffic, as Methos … just stroked his head. Coveting it? The thought was less disturbing than it should have been.

~*~  
"Now, where were we?" Methos purred, the *snick* of his sword being drawn the only warning as they crossed the floor of the dojo.

Pivoting, his own katana out in an instant to block Methos', Duncan held nothing back this time, and the clang and clash of their blades echoed throughout the room, both breathing hard, eyes glittering with the thrill of the fight, bodies slick with the sweat of it until Duncan had him pressed against the wall again, razor sharp blade kissing his neck.

"Yield?"

"Make me."

He did; sword clattering to the floor, Duncan gripped that ancient head and drew Methos to him, tasting fire as he kissed him.

The body pressed against him, lean and honed as any blade, did yield … minutely, by fractions, that first flare of desire slaked and made bearable.

"Maybe," Methos nuzzled into his long, dark hair, "we could take this somewhere more private, Mac?"

"Yeah, I think that can be arranged." Duncan cupped his chin, feeling a sense of wonder as he gazed at this oldest of them all -- who, when all was said and done, truly was just a guy.

He kissed him again, softer this time though hunger still gnawed at him, and wondered if he had a Do Not Disturb sign anywhere around here because he had a feeling this was going to be a very long night.


End file.
